


Long Term Memory Loss

by Fatnissandpita



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Eventual Romance, F/M, Memories, Rape, Sad, Slow Build, Slow Burn, you will cry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-27
Updated: 2015-11-05
Packaged: 2018-04-23 14:35:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4880539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fatnissandpita/pseuds/Fatnissandpita
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Are you sure you're ready to see him?" Scott heard a quick intake of breath. The cold winter air made Lydia feel as numb as her insides. She exhaled. Her throat felt like closing up and her eyes began to grow hazy. She stood there, stiff as a tree looking off into the distance. Her hands were shaking, she was thinking, and oh god it was happening again. Scott just stared and the pair stood in silence for a while. Well, Scott did. Lydia wasn't there, not really.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It had been almost two years since Lydia graduated from high school and moved to California to attend UC Berkley. Her dorm room had been small and lonely, her sordid roommate would occasionally drop in but mostly stayed out partying, leaving Lydia home alone most of the time. Well, it wasn't home anyways. Home was a ghost town that belonged to monsters with amber eyes and long, long eyelashes that would brush against her pale skin. 

Lydia had felt extremely lonely, she longed for long and pale bony fingers to touch her waist, whisper kind things into her ear and she longed for the ever so crooked grin of the kind-hearted alpha Scott McCall. Her heart felt desolate and hard ever since Allison died. She couldn't feel anything but anger, she survived on the fury that came from her best friend's death. Lydia became bitter and cold, wouldn't talk to the pack about her feelings because her mind blamed them. She was trapped inside her thoughts. She became her own void, her own worst enemy. Scott was supposed to protect her best friend and Stiles-oh my god, Stiles-she couldn't even look at him. Void, the monster in her mind who devoured a sweet puppy-faced boy, had murdered her only real friend, the only boy she gave her heart to. Lydia told and told herself that it wasn't Stiles but she couldn't help the burning and outrageous hatred that struck at her heart strings every time she looked at him. Just hearing his name made Lydia flinch, her loathing rotted her core so that she no longer letting feelings get in the way. 

Lydia's eyes would drift during class and turn hazy, everything hot red, thinking about Allison, and wouldn't notice that her class had ended an hour ago. No one ever attempted to talk to her about it. That's just how Lydia was to them. Lydia remembered how happy she had been before Allison died. When it started snowing, the gang would all sleepover at Lydia's house. Scott and Stiles would attempt to make hot chocolate from scratch, which always ended up in a marshmallow fight. 

Lydia remembered everything and it was a curse. She especially remembered the things she did not want to ever think of. She remembered when void made her feel helpless and trapped and scared as he grabbed her hair and pushed her against a wall. She remembered his nimble and numbing fingers, rough shoves, and hot breath. His hand found its way around her neck, tightening as her pulse quickened erratically. Insatiable. That's what he whispered into her ear over and over again as he violently assaulted her. Void had done this many times when Lydia was supposed to be silently sleeping in bed. All of it changed Lydia. All of it ruined her. It ruined her to a point that there was nothing left. 

Yet here Lydia was, moving back to Beacon Hills to finish college. She couldn't help the strong pull she felt towards the home of her perdition. It was never ending, the pull to the cursed town. She tried so hard to resist but she felt that she would die if she didn't go back. Being a banshee and all, Lydia didn't want to take any chances. She belonged there. So somehow Lydia found herself calling up Scott McCall, the veterinarian in training, her ex friend and pack leader. His voice sounded surprised and hoarse, years of death and sadness must have changed him. Scott picked her up from the airport instead of her parents because she didn't talk to them anymore. 

"Are you sure you're ready to see him?" Scott heard a quick intake of breath. The cold winter air made Lydia feel as numb as her insides. She exhaled. Her throat felt like closing up and her eyes began to grow hazy. She stood there, stiff as a tree looking off into the distance. Her hands were shaking, she was thinking, and oh god it was happening again. Scott just stared and the pair stood there for a while. Well, Scott did. Lydia wasn't there, not really. 

"No." Lydia's timid voice alarmed Scott. He'd never seen her like this. A ghost, merely surviving off of nothing but haunting memories. But her eyes were desperate like she wanted to say something but she couldn't. She wouldn't let herself say it. Say that she hated them both. He knew she felt it though. He could see the anger and emptiness in her eyes. 

"Lydia, I can tell him to stay away but you know he won't do that-" Scott began but she cut him off.

"Stop." Lydia spoke firmly. A few moments passed and they just stared at each other. Two people, now strangers with only tragic memories in common. 

"He misses you." Scott's voice wavered slightly, it sounded like he was going to cry. Lydia wanted to cry too. But now it was impossible for her, she'd done it too much. 

"Please Scott," Lydia begged and her voice cracked. She couldn't stand him talking about Stiles. She just couldn't do it. 

"Lydia, come on, just give him a chance-" Scott was interrupted once again. Lydia's face twisted into something hysterical.

"Do you think that I don't want to forgive him Scott? Is that it? I fucking forgave him. I forgave myself too. I want him so fucking bad Scott, but I can't do it. Every time I hear his name I get this sickening feeling that eats me alive, it twists my stomach around and I want to scream and scream and scream more. I can't even sleep peacefully without having nightmares about void touching me and torturing me. He's everywhere Scott. Stiles and void are the same person in my head because they have the same body and the same eyes and the same twisted fucking smirk." Lydia croaked out, her lips chapped and her eyes watery. She was shaking.

"Lydia-" Scott stepped forward to put a comforting hand on her shoulder but Lydia sharply jerked away.

"I'm not the same fucking little girl anymore Scott. Take me home." Scott just nodded and didn't dare meet her eyes. 

The car ride was silent. As rain began to drop, drop, drop on the windshield the only thing on Lydia's mind was Stiles, Stiles, S t i l e s .


	2. Chapter 2

Melissa McCall had made Lydia breakfast the next morning. When she noticed Lydia's puffy eyes she chose to ignore it and give her the brightest smile she could muster. Lydia grimaced. Scott must've told his mom about something because she was proceeding with caution, afraid Lydia would crumble apart if she spoke too loud. Lydia would roll her eyes if it were anyone else treating her like a broken doll but it was Melissa so the woman could get away with it. 

"Good morning Dr. Martin, how's the stay been so far?" Melissa wiggled her eyebrows and Lydia groaned. 

"I'll be Dr. Martin in maybe four years from now so don't get me excited about it just yet." Lydia gave a half smile as she look the glass of orange juice that Ms. McCall gave her. Melissa chuckled as she placed a few blueberries on top of the pancakes she was making. Lydia nearly moaned at the sight of them. Banana blueberry chocolate chip pancakes, her all time favorite. Melissa looked at her knowingly.

"Scott told me you like these kind of pancakes." Melissa spoke kindly, the wrinkles around her eyes becoming more noticeable. Lydia sighed.

"Of course he did," Lydia mumbled to herself. Scott is obviously up to something as usual. "So where's Scott?"

"Stiles picked him up this morning, I think they're-" Melissa stopped talking when she noticed Lydia immediately freeze at the name mention. She dropped her fork. Lydia's mouth felt as dry as her salt crusted eyes. Melissa's face flashed of concern but didn't say anything about her reaction to him.

"You alright there Lydia?" Melissa reached her hand out and touched Lydia's from across the marble island. 

"Y-yeah I'm perfectly fine. Just a little shaky, I haven't been eating much lately. Lost my appetite I guess." Lydia mumbled, somehow avoiding Melissa's hawk like gaze. Silence hovered between the two like a sound proof wall and Lydia finally forced herself to look into Melissa's eyes. 

Something passed between them and Lydia had a feeling Melissa knew more about what happened than what she was led to believe. She looked at Lydia in a certain way-was it pity? Or was it sadness? Scott had to have said something about her unstable self. Lydia just was glad Melissa avoided talking about it.

"Okay, as long as you're fine. You're fine aren't you Lydia?" Melissa asked. It seemed more that the woman was just trying to soothe Lydia with her questions, remind the redhead that she's okay. Well right now she's okay. Still empty and lost but okay and that's all that mattered. 

"Of course, perfectly fine. By the way, thanks for letting me stay here for the next few weeks. I really appreciate it Ms. McCall." Lydia gave the woman a thankful smile. Trust. That's what she felt when she talked to Melissa McCall. Familiarity. The woman made her feel more comfortable than she's ever been in two fucking years and that made Lydia a little sad. 

"Oh don't worry about it, you're pretty much the daughter I've always wanted. You can stay with us as long as you need Lydia Martin." Melissa said assuringly, squeezing Lydia's hand once more. "I have to go to work now but Scott will be back in a little bit so you won't be alone for too long. We should go shopping sometime Lydia, get some of that mother-daughter bonding."

Lydia nodded. The women said goodbye and Melissa got in her car and drove away, leaving Lydia in the most danger she has ever been in. Alone with herself. Lydia looked out the fogged window on the front side of the McCall's home and noticed that it was cold and wet and snowing outside. Stormy. Lydia began to lose herself in memories once more. 

"Ohhhhhhh Lydiiiiaaaaaaaaaa, did you miss me?" Void smiled with his Cheshire Cat grin, full set of teeth showing and dark wandering eyes. The tick of a clock began to speed up as Void walked towards her using his long, long legs. The wind that was blowing insanely fast came to an immediate stop. It all looked so unreal but Lydia remembered, it was not. Memories. Nightmares. They were in a basement, Lydia noted. Her heart began to quicken as her breath hitched in her throat. Not again. Please, not again.

"Lydiaaaaaaa, we want you," Void licked his lips as he turned each corner in the maze like basement. Fear stabbed at Lydia's heart, a sick feeling settled at the bottom of her stomach, he was coming. They were coming and there was no way out. Lydia began to panic. 

She began to sprint as fast as she could, turning each corner of the concrete maze only to find no end. It was never ending. She was surrounded by him. Everywhere. He was in the very air she breathed. She could hear Void get closer and closer. He had the long strides of Stiles Stilinski and the pale freckled skin too. They were the same. They both wanted her in the same way and she couldn't stop them from getting what they wanted. 

Silence was among the three of them. 

One.

 

Two. 

 

Three.

 

Four.

 

"LYDIA!" Void growled, animalistic. His voice demonic, nothing alike the sweet deep voice of Stiles she remembered. It made Lydia's skin break out into goosebumps. She suddenly felt so, so cold. The terror was overwhelming. She couldn't tell which direction his voice was coming from, it echoed everywhere. He could be right behind her and she wouldn't even know. Lydia continued to run and run. But she knew deep down, he would find her soon. He always did.  
Lydia finally came to a stop, a dead end. More silence surrounded her. Until she heard slow steps moving in her direction. Lydia closed her eyes. She could feel him standing directly in front of her, his body heat made her mind scream in alarm. 

No Lydia, don't open your eyes.

"Lydia, open your eyes." Void whispered into her ear, his mouth so close to hers. 

Don't do it. He's going to trick you.

"Lydia I promise I won't hurt you just please, open your eyes." Manipulative. She knew what they were doing. His tone of voice reminded her of the old Stiles. But no, that's not who it was anymore. It was Void and Stiles. 

She opened them anyways.


	3. Chapter 3

Lydia awoke with a jump, her eyes wide and terrified. Looking around she noticed two things: Scott McCall with an extremely worried expression AND someone's foot in the doorway of what she remembered as Scott McCall's bedroom. God, Scott just won't leave her the hell alone. The foot in the doorway quickly disappeared just as she noticed it. It must've been her imagination. Or, it was HIM. Just the thought sent an uncomfortable jolt through her spine. Worry.

"Lydia?" Scott walked over to his bed and sat down on it. His eyes were patient and caring and Lydia absolutely hated it. He was still the same kind person and she hated it. "Are you feeling better?"

Lydia groaned. She could barely remember what got her feeling like absolute shit. Then it hit her like a fucking train.

She must've had another nightmare. She's been getting them more frequently, about everyday now. She'll be perfectly fine and then suddenly she's stuck in a trance that she's unable to get out of. The terrors are vivid and she feels like she's actually going through them again and again and again. They never stop, continuous just like death. She is death just as her thoughts are the death of her.

"Yeah, fine. I must've been dehydrated or something idiotic like that." Lydia coughed and then looked down at her hands, playing with her baby pink cat nails. She didn't want to talk to Scott. At all. He couldn't help her, not really. He wouldn't understand, he didn't know everything that happened. He had no idea what Void and Stiles really did to her.

"Are you sure?" Scott's eyebrows furrowed together and he looked like he was genuinely thinking about what happened and observing her. Goddamn psychology majors, Lydia internally sighed. Scott's starting to act like one of Lydia's annoying fake step mothers. Well, maybe Scott's not that bad, but close. His question was a nice reminder that at least two people in the world sort of cared for her: Scott and his mom. It was sad actually.

"I wouldn't tell you either way." Lydia replied a little too insolent and snarky for Scott's liking but he bit his tongue. She's gone through too much, more than he has that's for sure. Plus, Lydia is still obviously angry at him for existing. There's not much Scott can do to fix the gap between them, it's all up to Lydia as usual. 

"Okay well if you say so," Scott kept his eyes downcast. Lydia can be really scary if she tried hard enough. "Want to get some ice cream?"

Lydia thought about the proposition for a few moments. Pro: she would get ice cream. Con: Scott, uh, Scott, and SCOTT.

"No." Lydia crossed her arms and gave him an annoyed stare. "You're not going to win me over McCall, don't try. Plus, I'm a bitch if you haven't noticed." 

"Oh come on Lydia, we both know you're just trying to avoid me as much as possible. I think you forget you're staying in a house where I live. Besides, I'm just offering ice cream, not a hug or a lame pat on the back." Scott gave her a puppy dog pout, his eyes begging her to go. Lydia rolled her eyes and mumbled something along the lines of "fucking werewolves." 

"Fine." The redhead groaned. She did need a break from all the thinking she'd been doing lately. Anyway, it's better when she has company. No more nightmares. "Just so you know, this does not imply I like you in any way whatsoever or plan on tolerating you more than usual in the future."

Lydia kept her nose high in the air as she walked towards the garage.  
Scott grinned to himself, maybe she hasn't changed after all. He hoped. But Scott knew that was a lie. There was something in her eyes, something he couldn't describe. All he could tell was that it wasn't good.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm definitely going to re-edit this chapter and add more because it kinda sucks but I really wanted to post it so!!!!! ENJOY!

No matter how much she tried, Lydia couldn't stop reliving horrifying moments from her past. They'd attack her at the worst times too. Moving back to Beacon Hills did nothing but make it worse because HE was less than a fifteen car ride away. The nightmares became so real that she found herself unconsciously getting up and running away from the monster that haunted her. One time she woke up nearly drowning in the pool. It was all in her mind she told herself. The pain in her nightmares wasn't real. But why did it feel so real? Why did she feel his hands on her body as if he were actually there? You know why, a little voice in the back of her head said. The thought made her shiver.

Lydia decided that it had something to do with her being a banshee. Everything bad that happened to her always came back to the fact that she was a banshee. That's all that mattered to everyone, that she was a crazy ass shrieking woman who could hear the dead. Lydia hated it, she hated it so much. The constant voices telling her what to do, encouraging her to listen to them as if they were sane spirits.

See, the spirits who stay put on earth are usually the demonic ones. The sweet angelic spirits go to heaven because hell is on earth. Lydia has to deal with hearing them tell her horrible things, occasionally useful things, but mostly things that make her ears bleed and want to claw her eyes out. Of course, Lydia figured out ways to block them out. But lately, they've been getting worse and worse because they speak of the person she wants to forget so badly.

Stiles.

The spirits whisper how he wants her again, tauntingly, continuously. They speak about how he wants to tear her apart, make her skin victim to angry red bite marks and blue and purple welts. They tell Lydia how much he wants to fuck her and hurt her and kill her.

How much he loves her.

The last one kills Lydia, she shushes the voices but they just come back louder and more constant. They haunt her. She's never hated being a banshee more in her life. She thinks she's going crazy. She is, she knows she is and she blames only one person. Him.

Chaos.

Death.

Insatiable.

Repeat.

Repeat.

Repeat.

He's the very air she breaths. She swears she would die without him and that's what makes everything worse. She needs him in every way possible, an unhealthy addiction. She wants him but she also wants to hate him. She hates him, but does she really? Stiles and void were the same person in her head because they had the same face, same lean pale body. She shivered.

She remembered the one time it was Stiles.

_The club flashed with neon black lights. She looked around for Scott and Allison, where'd they go? Why'd they leave her alone? Lydia pulled down the crop top bunching around her boobs and sighed._

_She could feel it, death. It was coming, rapidly, surrounding every move she made. Death was always lurking in the corner waiting to snatch another life and all Lydia had to do was scream. It seemed so simple. It was not._

_Lydia couldn't hear anything, time froze as she looked around the flashing room. There he was. Leaning against the wall on the left side of the basement, looking right at her. Lydia's heart nearly jumped out of her chest. Lust. Excitement. Fear. Lydia knew the combination was unhealthy._

_His gaze was different than usual, not predatory but not kind either. Dark. His hoodie created a shadow over his lips, hiding the sly smile on his face but she knew it was there._

_Next thing Lydia knew he was right behind her._

_"Hey Lydia," His sultry voice sent waves through her body. Recognition._

_"Void." Lydia stared straight through him. Something was different tonight and she didn't like it. Void seemed off, he was never off._

_Lydia tilted her head to the side as she looked up at him. An ill feeling settled in the pit of her stomach, she felt nauseous as he peered down at her with that sickening smile._

_Then, his dark eyes looked into hers and whispered the three words that ruined her life._

_"It's me, Stiles."_


	5. Chapter 5

Weeks passed and there was no sign of Stiles, it was like he was never around. But Lydia knew that was a lie. He was always around, he was everywhere. Lydia would see him, but only as a mere shadow, his ball cap and car keys would be lying around somewhere in the house. His remains lurked throughout the living room, dining room, her bedroom even, he was there but she didn’t know where. His t-shirts and dirty laundry somehow found itself littering the hallways, constantly.

Lydia would clean the kitchen and put everything away and then she would find bowls of ice cream and cereal in the sink, after she put all that hard work into putting everything into the dishwasher. Lydia had observed within the first two days of staying with the McCalls that Scott eats a lot. But the funny thing was that Scott and his mom were not home when she found the bowls of half-eaten ice cream and cereal in the sink. It made her feel eerie, knowing there was a presence in the house not wanting to her to know it was there.

Not once did she actually see him. He’s persistent, she’d give him that. 

Or maybe he was not there at all.

Maybe Lydia’s going crazy again.

Maybe she's losing her fucking mind. 

It was a possibility, it happened before. 

Whenever Lydia would get home from wherever, another door in the house would creak shut and she just knew, she wasn't stupid. But then again, it could just be her brain creating images that were not there.

Lydia had caught plaid shirts passing through the hallways as she drifted into sleep. It was obvious that he didn't want to scare her. 

Too late. 

It was more obvious that he didn't want to see her because she knows that he’s not the same. Void did something to him. Scott doesn’t know. But she does. That night when the real Stiles approached her in the club, Lydia knew that it was him and not Void. Void changed Stiles, the witty sarcastic boy, in ways Lydia couldn’t even imagine. The demon made him darker, more corrupt, with the same memories and thoughts, but with new twisted ideas. 

Sometimes, Stiles wondered if there had ever been a Void in the first place. He would quickly dismiss the idea, but Stiles couldn’t help but think about it. Maybe Void was another side of himself that just had to gently whisper something sinister into Stiles’ ear and he would comply. Maybe Stiles didn’t put up a fight because it was the true Stiles. Did he really fight? Stiles couldn’t remember. Maybe all he had to do was give into the temptation of the darkest sins that lingered, waiting to be committed in the back of his mind. 

Stiles used to have dreams, he used to remember every vivid detail. 

Now, he dreams of nothing.   
Blank.   
Emotionless.   
Empty.

What ever happened to Stiles Stilinski? 

~~~

While Stiles was lacking sentiment, Lydia was experiencing too much.

Too many emotions. Every since she came back to Beacon Hills she'd become less of a shell of a person and more of an emotional wreck. Everything she'd suppressed for years started coming back. The nightmares only got worse and worse, Lydia sweared that everything in her dreams really happened. All of it. 

What concerned her most was what took place Wednesday the 28th, a month after Lydia arrived. The thermostat dropped to 32 degrees, Scott was out with some buddies, Ms. McCall was working overnight, and Lydia couldn't wake the hell up. 

It was the same dream that she'd been constantly having. Each time she fell asleep the dream would continue a few seconds longer than the previous dream. This time, he was getting closer and closer. 

Terror seized all sudden movement and Lydia unknowingly stopped breathing as she slept. She stopped breathing for thirty minutes straight and had no idea. 

She was paralyzed, unable to wake up as her dream self stumbled around in the woods. Lydia could hear his heavy breathing behind her, feel his hooded eyes filled with desire stalking her every movement. Her long-sleeved red dress swished around her thighs and her beige sweater bounced up and down. It was her favorite red dress, maybe it would hide the blood that would pour out of previous wounds as Stiles ripped her skin into shreds. Lydia wondered if she were made out of paper sometimes, she acted like it. She could burn and tear so easily. 

There was no moon. Only four foot fog rolling over the hills in the woods from extreme gusts of wind. Pitch black sky with illuminated stars brightened the sky. Dream Lydia wished they would go away, light made her hope. Hope it was going to stop, hope that the dream wouldn't continue, hope that she wouldn't find out what happens to her when the dream ends. 

She still didn't wake up.

Dream Lydia began to panic, she'd never gotten so far in the dream before. Alarm awakened her senses as she felt off, so, so wrong. She should be waking up by now. She should've been wearing her black slip nightie and dreaming about calculus and pre-med programs.Now, she should be opening her tired, bleary eyes and begin to pour insane amounts of cream and sugar into her bitter, burnt coffee. But no, she was running through the dark woods, heart pounding unhealthily, tragic memories flooding her already frantic thoughts. 

Lydia put her hand on her chest and noticed something very strange. 

Her heart stopped.

Silence. The eye of the storm signaling death and torture around the corner, waiting to pounce. 

"Lydiaaaaa,"   
The voice of a snake whispered. 

Lydia snapped her head in every direction possible, knowing something horrible was going to happen. But what could she do? It's just a dream, Lydia told herself and told herself, and told herself again. She couldn't help but feel it wasn't, it was something more. 

When Lydia woke up that morning with bruises on her neck and thighs in the shape of hand prints, she knew something was wrong. 

Very, very wrong. 

She also woke up with Stiles, standing in her bedroom door frame.

**Author's Note:**

> Please review! Reviews make me write more!!! I definitely want to continue this terrible angst fic so please send me suggestions or critiques if you have any! Also, I'm interested in a writing partner for this story to message me if you want to help! (I didn't edit much so sorry about that lol)


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